


the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you

by The_Wonderful_Jinx



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coralee Never Went Missing, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, False Accusations, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:45:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wonderful_Jinx/pseuds/The_Wonderful_Jinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's their anniversary today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a question asked by an Anon.

He never had dinner with a large group before, nothing that exceeded over ten people like the holiday gatherings for his family and friends. He didn’t think he was one to be in the midst of a big crowd. But Alex changes his mind when she invites him out to join her, Nic, and the PNWS staff to eat at a local favorite, a little dive bar called ‘Juno’ a couple miles away from the studio. The promises of greasy burgers and hand cut, over salted fries were too good to pass up. So when it was six pm, he, Alex, Nic, and a couple interns crammed into Alex’s little, beat-up, sedan and braved the Seattle traffic to ‘Juno’.

They’re seated at the only long table. It’s pressed up against the brick wall decorated with flashy prints, posters, and gleaming string lights that pulse in time with the radio blasting 90′s grunge rock. The interns sing along and  jump up on the table (waiting for everyone to get their food and drinks off first, of course) and perform little dances for the rest of the customers in Juno. It’s nothing obscene and no one seems to mind, they all applaud when the current group finishes their routine. The interns bow, then jump off, and they go back to eating and drinking until another song the interns like comes on. 

This public display of brashness doesn't bother him. If he had dropped in with just Coralee and Charlie, no doubt he would be  more critical of the display. He finds himself charmed of their youthful wildness after month of working with them, fond of of how everyone accepts the crass performance with laughter, smiles, and cheers of encouragement. It's much more welcoming, more warm, more ‘familial’ than his current roster of acquaintances back in Chicago (save for Mel, Jenna, and Ruby). The interns eventually convince Alex to dance. She gently tugs at his sleeves him, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, silently asking him to join her. He grins but he shakes his head, kindly refusing. Alex just smiles in return with a little shrug and clambers up on the table and is joined by a bunch of interns. He watches enraptured as she dances with two female interns: twisting and turning gracefully despite the small surface as though they practiced months ahead of time, when in reality it was all improvised. 

A cell phone rings, piercing through the music with precise beeps. And immediately everyone at the table stops what they are doing to fish out their phones to find the one the source- it’s his. It’s Coralee. He smiles bashfully. 

“Sorry guys,” he says sheepishly as he rises from the table, “I have to take this.”

The crowd chimes in with “go ahead” and “take a breather” with a “just hurry up or I’m stealing your fries” from an intern to wrap it up. He leaves the table laughing, stepping outside in the cool Seattle air and accepts the call.

“Hello dear.” he says, trying to catch his breath. “Is everything alright?”

“Do you know what day it is?” she says.

“It’s October 13th.” He replies. Then he remembers. It's their anniversary today. “Oh.”

“Oh, is right Richard. You said you were coming home today. Where are you?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m still in Seattle. I’m having dinner with Alex-”

“Of course you are.”

“A _nd_ the rest of the staff of PNWS.” His grip on his phone tightened. “Look Coralee, I am truly sorry for forgetting. I’ll cancel all my plans for the week, get the next flight out to Chicago, and I’ll come right back home. No work, no calls, just you and me. A nice night out to your favorite place and-”

“Don’t lie to me Richard.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I said don’t lie to me. I know exactly what you’re doing. If you’re trying to keep it a secret, you’re doing a shit job at it by staying on Miss Reagan’s podcast.”

“What the hell are you talking about Coralee?” He could understand her anger of him forgetting their anniversary, he would be too if their roles were flipped. 

“I always had the feeling you were sleeping with her, but I at least thought you would have a decency to keep it out of the public eye.”

His heart skips a beat. “You think I’m cheating on you?”

“I’m not the only one Richard. Hundreds, thousands of fans have picked on your behavior around her: the things you say, how you say it, the way you laugh around her. And lets not forget her frequent visits to your hotel room. It’s all anyone ever talks about on this damn show! Just last week my parents came over for a visit and gave me a list of divorce lawyers! My friends are asking when I’m leaving you!”

“I’m not having an affair!”

“Then act like it Richard!”

Silence. All he can hear is her breathing on the other end, the cars passing by him, and the muffled crowd back in the bar. For a brief moment, he wishes he didn’t answer his phone and instead spend the rest of the night ignorantly reveling with Alex and the rest of her coworkers. But he knows that it would’ve made the situation much more worse.

“I’m not having an affair.” he repeats. It's all he can muster, because it is the truth. He isn’t. He wouldn’t dream of it. Any feelings he did have for Alex, he wouldn’t act on.

Coralee takes in a sharp, ragged breath, like she’s trying desperately not to scream. “I’m sorry Richard. For going at you like that.”

“Don’t apologize Coralee. The fault is entirely on me.” he says, his voice drained of all emotion. 

“Are you coming home?”

“I will. I’ll make arrangements. I’ll call the minute I land in Chicago.”

Another pause. In the background he could hear someone speaking to Coralee.

 _‘Are you and dad fighting again?’_ a voice that sounds like Charlie enquirers.

_‘No we’re not darling. Just a disagreement.’  
_

_‘Can you please keep it down? I’m having a Skype meeting and my boss thought someone was getting murdered.’_

_‘Sorry dear.’  
_

“I have to go now Richard. It’s late.”

Even though she can’t see him, he nods out of instinct. “Goodnight Coralee.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She hangs up first. He lingers outside for a few more minutes before going back into the bar. They’re still partying, laughing, and amusing the patrons with their bombastic table dancing skills. Alex is back up on the table, joined by Nic and the editors, the interns pounding on the floor keeping in time with the drum-guitar solo wailing in the background. Something in him wants to join her in her bliss, to help her off the table and guide her to the middle of the room and dance with her there. He’s not as showy, but he could make do with a basic two-step if she was willing. Suddenly he feels exaughsted, like someone set the sky upon his shoulders. 

He grabs his jacket and slips away from the group, leaving a twenty dollar bill on the table for the tip. He knows if he stays any longer, he would never leave. Best to nip temptation in the bud. No one sees him leave (or they do but they let him). As he hails a cab, a part of him wishes that Alex would coming running and pull him back into the bar with a myriad of excuses he himself cannot make up. He doesn’t know why, but not knowing exactly why scares him more than hope of being stopped. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much reading! If there are any errors/glaring ooc-ness, please let me know!  
> Titled inspired by the song "9 Crimes" by Damien Rice.


End file.
